The Blake Adventures: Nothing Dearer
by AndAllThatMishigas
Summary: After Jean and Lucien wed, their night is interrupted by a mystery that hits Lucien more personally than he's quite prepared for.
1. Chapter 1

**The Blake Adventures: Nothing Dearer**

 _January 1960_

"Oh I do love you, Mrs. Blake," Lucien murmured, positively enamored by referring to Jean by her new name.

She hummed happily, nuzzling against his chest where they sat on the sofa, snuggled together as they finished the last of the champagne. The guests had all trickled out after dinner, not that there had been too many of them. Jean's sister and brother-in-law had only come up from Melbourne for the day, and Christopher had an early bus back to Adelaide. Matthew and Alice and Charlie and Mattie had all helped with the cleanup, but there was only so much they could do. The lodgers each packed a bag for the night; Charlie was spending the night on Matthew's sofa and Mattie was staying with one of her girlfriends. When everyone was gone, Jean was in the kitchen with her apron tied over her wedding dress, washing the last of the dishes. Lucien had teased her, saying that only Jean Beazley would be washing up after her own wedding. Jean had replied by informing him that she was Jean Blake now, and she couldn't very well relax in the midst of a mess. So Lucien had helped her dry the dishes until he finally insisted that, as it was their wedding night, they should have the rest of the champagne and celebrate their marriage properly.

And now, Jean was feeling all the bubbly weightlessness of the champagne mixed with her giddy contentment at finally being married to the man of her dreams. "Is there anymore in the bottle?" she asked, holding up her empty glass.

"'Fraid not, love. You've finished the last of it," he chuckled.

"Just as well. I don't think either of us wants to be too intoxicated on our first night as a married couple," she teased.

"Mmm," he agreed. "I think it's time I carry my wife off to bed."

She sat up and laughed, "You're going to carry me off to bed!?"

He grinned excitedly. "I most certainly am!" And without further discussion, Lucien leapt off the sofa and scooped Jean into his arms. He planted a big kiss on her lips before dashing up the stairs with her to their new bedroom.

Lucien gently deposited Jean back on her feet and closed the door behind them. He regained his breathing after the exertion of carrying her and gazed around the room. Jean had been decorating this enormous spare bedroom next to her old room. It had been left vacant for years. Thomas had offered it to Jean when she had first moved in, but she protested, not feeling as though the housekeeper should have such a grand space. Lucien vaguely remembered this room from his childhood; it had been his parents' master bedroom when Genevieve was alive. After her death, Thomas moved downstairs to the room Lucien had stayed in since his return to Ballarat. But now, the years had passed, and the time had come to have love and life back in that old room.

"The room looks wonderful," he commented, smiling at all the nice touches she had put around, taking a few things from each of their old bedrooms to make this room their own.

"We'll need to move the rest of our things in when we return from our honeymoon, but I hoped this would be sufficient for now," Jean replied.

"It's lovely. But not nearly as lovely as you."

Jean smiled and averted her gaze in slight embarrassment, smoothing the cream-colored satin of her wedding dress.

Lucien watched her with a gentle expression. "Have I told you how much I like your dress?" he asked, admiring the tea-length gown for the thousandth time that day. She looked like a beautiful, soft angel. Her hair was pulled into an elegant style beneath her had. The bodice and three-quarter sleeves of the dress were all overlaid with delicate lace.

"I wasn't sure if I should have a traditional wedding dress. We didn't get married in the church, and I'm certainly in no position to wear white." Jean chose to ignore his cheeky grin at her comment. She continued, "But I just thought I'd feel odd without a proper gown. Just one little traditional thing in the midst of our nontraditional life."

"You're not disappointed we didn't get married at the church?" he wondered with concern.

"Of course not," she assured him. "You and Father Emery certainly don't get along. And I know you're not comfortable at Sacred Heart. As I've told you before, Lucien, all I wanted was to marry you. I don't care how. I just want to start our married life together."

Lucien gathered her in his arms. "Shall we begin now?" he murmured.

Jean grinned happily as his lips descended upon hers. This was the first proper kiss they'd shared since they said 'I do.' They had kept their first kiss as husband and wife relatively chaste. After all, everyone was watching, and Jean had been smiling far too much to kiss him adequately. During the evening reception, they had shared a few quick pecks while they danced in the living room to the record Charlie put on for their first dance, and during the toasts Matthew and Christopher and Mattie gave in their honor.

But this was what they had been waiting for. No more barriers left between them. No more arbitrary rules Jean had imposed to preserve the sanctity of their upcoming marriage. Just two people madly in love and desperate for their life together.

Lucien pulled his wife flush against him so she could feel his arousal grow from the passion of their kiss. Jean rubbed up on him with her hips, causing him to groan with desire. He pulled away, cradling her face in his hands. "I'm so glad you're my wife."

"I've waited a long time for you," she replied reverently, placing her hands on his chest, her fingers tracing the lines of his waistcoat.

"I'm certainly glad we didn't wait too long," he added with a playful grin.

Jean pursed her lips as she blushed. For the second time, she had sinned with a man before marrying him. But Jean knew from experience that marriage was so much more than sex. And there could be nothing sinful about the way she loved Lucien Blake. In ever manner and with ever fiber of her being, she loved him. She had not confessed her sins to Father Emery, a fact she had not shared with Lucien. But she knew in her heart that the love she felt for this man was a divine blessing, and the God that Jean prayed to would not fault her for expressing that love, not after hiding in shame from it for so long.

And despite having made love to Lucien quite a few times in the months during their engagement, this night, their wedding night, was special. Jean had never allowed herself to spend the night with Lucien and share his bed longer than their coupling. A marital bed was for such delights, such intimate, vulnerable, comfortable things. Tonight they would make love and fall asleep in each other's arms and wake up to each other's kisses and caresses. They were married now, and everything could finally be theirs to share.

Jean looked up into his eyes and gave a satisfied half-smile. "Lucien," she said softly, maintaining eye contact as she began undoing his buttons. "I am your wife now." She undid his tie. "And you are my husband." She moved on to the buttons of his shirt. "And this our wedding night." Her hands stopped at where the tails of the shirt were still tucked into his trousers.

Lucien's breath caught in his throat. He swallowed hard before saying, "May I help remove your hairpins, Mrs. Blake?"

With a nod, Jean turned away from him so he could see the back of her hair. With the gentlest touch, Lucien began to undo her intricate style. First, he removed her hat and placed it respectfully on the dresser. One by one, he removed each pin and placed them on in the dish on the vanity. Jean could feel the care and attention in his touch, and it nearly brought her to tears. The devotion he showed her in this simple act. By the time he removed the very last pin and began combing through her curls with his fingers, her knees were weak with desire.

But not satisfied with only the hairpins, Lucien moved his attention downward. He began undoing the buttons of her dress with the same delicate care. As he exposed bits of her skin, he leaned down to press kisses to her neck and shoulders and back. Jean trembled, far too aroused by his painstaking efforts. She hardly even noticed when her gown fell off her shoulders and onto the floor at her feet.

Lucien wrapped his arms around her body, clad only in her slip and undergarments. His hands flattened on her stomach, pressing her body against him again and gently grinding his hips and thrusting against her bum. She moaned with want. One of his hands crawled up to massage her breast through the layers of silk separating them. His other hand slid down between her legs and began stroking her. Jean canted her hips against his hand to increase the friction. With a soft growl, he sucked and nipped at her neck, unable to resist her.

Jean was weak in his arms, barely able to stand upright. She gasped when he moved her knickers out of the way and entered her with two of his fingers, thrusting at a painfully slow pace. She wiggled to increase his speed, but he resisted. "Please," she begged breathlessly. "Lucien, I need you."

His hands slowed to a pause. He nuzzled her cheek with his. "Not just yet, my darling. I'm going to take my time with you tonight."

Their previous lovemaking hadn't been like this at all. Lucien was always very attentive to her, but they'd always rushed right to their goal. Perhaps it was the knowledge that they were hiding from everyone else in the house, or that they knew they weren't really able to fully be together yet. Jean hadn't expected their wedding night to actually be much different than those other times, not really. But it was. It seemed Lucien had placed as much importance on this night and on their marriage as Jean had.

With this, as with most things, Jean was willing to follow wherever he led. He helped her step out of her shoes and walked her to the bed. He pulled back the bedsheets before sitting her down on the edge. He lifted one of her long, shapely legs and unclipped her stockings, rolling down one and then the other, tossing them behind him. He then took the hem of her slip and pulled it over her head.

Jean, despite her trembling, couldn't wait any longer. Her shaking hands found their way to his belt buckle and pushed his trousers down his legs. She was even so bold as to reach into his shorts and take his erection in hand, stroking him as slowly as he had stroked her before. Lucien groaned, his head rolling back on his neck.

That seemed to be the end of Lucien's plan to take his time. He threw off his clothes, practically ripping his singlet over his head as he lunged forward, pressing Jean's back into the mattress. He kissed her passionately, his hands roaming over her nearly-naked body, unable to stay still. She pushed his shorts off his hips, too eager to have his hardness inside her.

Lucien forced himself off her in order to remove all the rest of their undergarments. He poised himself above her body, her legs spread open in front of him. "Oh, my darling wife," he breathed in awe.

"I'm yours, husband," she whispered in return.

He grinned brightly as he took himself in hand, lining up with her entrance. She was dripping with desire for him since his earlier ministrations. Jean was hot and ready for him, and she emitted a high-pitched moan as he pushed inside her.

Lucien had somehow regained some of his control. He set his pace slow and easy, still determined to take his time, to bring her torturously to the brink of her climax and allow it to crash through her over and over and over. And that was exactly what he did.

"God, Lucien!" she screamed out. Her mouth was dry and there were stars in her eyes. The sensations he caused, the incessant, unending ripples of every muscle in her body, was more than she had ever experienced in all her life.

He could feel the walls of her sex clench around him, pulling him and squeezing him. His body growing weak from his exertion in keeping control.

Jean could finally blink her eyes open to look at him, and she saw the sweat beading on his brow. "Please, love, let go for me," she murmured, reaching up to trail her fingers down his face.

With her permission, Lucien leaned in to kiss his wife as his thrusts increased with speed and became erratic and frenzied. It didn't take long before he was thoroughly spent inside her. He collapsed onto her, breathing heavily against her neck.

Jean held him close to her, unwilling to let him go or be even an inch away from him. She pressed soft kisses to his shoulder and traced lazy patterns in the scars on his back. "I love you," she whispered. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Neither was sure how or when, but they fell asleep in each other's arms in utter exhaustion from their lovemaking. It wasn't until well into the night that either realized how perfectly natural it had felt, their first time falling asleep together.

A sharp cry and the sound of scraping gravel outside their bedroom window woke Jean with a start. She blinked in the darkness, disoriented in this unfamiliar room. It took her a moment to remember where she was and realize that it was Lucien—her husband—who had his arm around her bare waist beneath the sheets of the bed. More scraping on the gravel outside. She nudged his solid chest pressed against her back. "Lucien!" she hissed, waking him up.

"Hmm? Jean? What is it?" he grumbled, nuzzling into her hair in protest.

"There's something outside!"

The sound came again, fainter this time but definitely audible. Lucien woke up right away. He threw the covers off and got out of bed. "Stay here. I'll go see what it is." Lucien found his shorts and pulled them on quickly and grabbed his dressing gown of the hook on the back of the door where Jean had conveniently put it.

Jean, however, was not content to remain in bed while her husband went to investigate. She, too, got out of bed and threw on her dressing gown, hurrying down the stairs after him.

Lucien ran out of the house without even putting shoes on his feet. A dark figure was collapsed in the drive. Jean turned on the porch light, casting a yellow beam around the front of the house. It was clear to see that the dark figure was a person. A young woman with dark hair, collapsed not ten feet from the Blakes' front door. "Jean, call the police!" Lucien shouted.

Jean did as she was asked without a second thought. Lucien, meanwhile, crouched down to investigate. The body was warm but unmoving. Tentative and terrified, Lucien rolled her over.

For an instant, Lucien's heart dropped in his chest. For an instant, he saw Li's face. But Lucien blinked and saw that, of course, it was not his daughter. This was a young Chinese woman, probably about Li's age. And this young woman was dead.


	2. Chapter 2

Bill Hobart drove up in the police car, having answered Jean's call. He found Dr. Blake kneeling beside the body, staring.

"Doc?" Bill greeted tentatively.

Lucien stood up and explained to Bill what he knew. The young woman had been alive upon arriving on the property, because her cry and stumble to the ground had awoken them. Lucien had also discovered that she had been stabbed in the stomach and most likely died of blood loss.

Bill asked to go inside and use the phone to call the ambos to take the body to the morgue. There wasn't anything else Dr. Blake could do here.

Jean came outside, her dressing gown wrapped tightly around her body, hiding the fact that she hadn't had a chance to put anything else on. She put her hand on Lucien's back and rested her cheek against his shoulder. "There's nothing you can do for her now. Go get dressed and you can go to the morgue."

Lucien followed her gentle tug to go inside the house. They walked past the bouquets of flowers leftover from their wedding party. "Jean, it's our wedding night!" he remembered.

"I know, but you have work to do," she replied with a gentle, sad smile.

Before Lucien could respond, Bill got off the phone with a heavy sigh. "Her name is Wang Na. Her brother, Wei, dropped her off here to see the doctor and went into the station to explain. Ned's with him now. Apparently there was an accident at the boarding house and she was injured. We'll check his story with the other boarders tomorrow, and Dr. Harvey will confirm the cause of death. Sorry to disturb you for nothing."

"Not for nothing, Bill, a woman came to me for help and I was too…" Lucien trailed off, knowing he was getting angry and upset for a reason he couldn't quite articulate.

Jean watched him with a concerned frown. "Lucien," she murmured in warning.

Bill could see this was a domestic issue he wanted no part of. "I'll just wait outside for the ambos. Goodnight Doc, Mrs. Blake," he said, awkwardly escaping the house.

"You get back to bed, Jean. I'll be in my study for a while."

Jean regarded him carefully. Lucien's tone was cold and unfeeling. That somehow scared her more than anything else. "Can I do anything? I could put on the kettle," she offered.

"No, I'll be up soon," he replied dismissively, walking past her and shutting himself in his study without another word.

Reluctantly, Jean went up to their bedroom, alone. There wasn't much else she could do. The alarm clock read just after four in the morning. Jean stood in the dark of the room, peeking through the curtains to watch the ambos remove that poor dead woman from their front drive. Jean had seen her fair share of bodies in her years living and working with Lucien, but it was different to have death so close to their doorstep. Jean's heart ached for Wang Na. Even if her death was an accident and not murder, it was still a tragedy for a young life to be cut short.

She got back in bed, waiting for her husband. Jean briefly realized that this was the first of what would likely be many, many nights of waiting up in bed for him. He tended to lose track of time and be fixated on whatever he happened to be working on. She had reminded him countless times to get some sleep. Now, thankfully, she could motivate him a bit better, since he would be joining her in bed from now on.

Jean smiled slightly at the thought and snuggled under the covers. The pillow he'd been sleeping on earlier smelled like him. She breathed his scent deep into her heart and soul.

Sun eventually began to come through the window. Jean was sure she must have dozed off at some point, but Lucien still wasn't in bed. Thoroughly worried and incredibly curious, Jean got up to check on him.

The phone rang just as she crossed the front hallway. "Dr. Blake's surgery," she answered, as was customary.

In the study, Lucien heard the phone ring once, followed by Jean's voice muffled behind the closed door. He frowned. She shouldn't be awake yet. Nor should anyone be calling at this hour, except probably the police. If it was, Jean would come and tell him. Until she did, he returned to his task, rereading the pages in front of him.

A quiet knock came on the door. "Yes?" he called out.

Jean entered slowly. "Lucien, that was Superintendent Carlyle. He wanted to make sure you know that Wang Na's death has been proved accidental. Something with sewing scissors. There's no arrest and nothing for you to concern yourself. And Frank wished us a nice honeymoon," she added with a small smile.

Lucien nodded. "Thank you for letting me know."

"Can I ask what you've been doing down here? It's been quite lonely up in _our_ bed all by myself," she noted with a slight smirk.

Lucien knew he had to tell her. Jean was his wife now. He had no secrets from her. And as much as he despised himself for his weakness, he knew she would not fault him for it. "Jean, when I saw that girl's face, I could have sworn for a moment that it was Li."

Jean's eyes went wide. She sat down in the chair in front of his desk, leaning forward with interest.

He continued, "Of course it wasn't. But she's about Li's age. And you don't see many Chinese faces in Ballarat. It felt as though my subconscious was playing a rather nasty trick on me."

"How so?" she asked with a frown.

"I've been thinking about Li quite a bit lately. More so than usual. Worrying about her, actually."

"Is she alright? Did you receive some news?" Jean asked immediately.

Lucien smiled in spite of himself. Leave it to Jean to be so quick to lend her care and concern. "No, no, she's fine, as far as I know," he assured her. "But in planning our little wedding, I suppose I've just been thinking about marriage and family. Someone told me, shortly after Li was born, an old line from Euripides, I think it was. 'To a father growing old, nothing is dearer than a daughter.' And I know I am growing much older every day. It's catching up with me more than it used to. My daughter is so very far away, both in distance and in emotion. We've become rather good pen pals, but it isn't the same. I miss being her father."

"Do you want to go back to China to see her? You certainly could, whenever you want. You should be with her as much as you can." Jean tried her best to say what she was supposed to in this situation. She couldn't bear to beg him to stay with her, to confess that the month he spent in China two years before had broken her heart into a million pieces. And that was before she'd really fallen in love with him and known what it was to have his love in her life. But as a parent with an absent child, Jean knew better than most the difficulties Lucien was facing.

"No," Lucien replied. "I don't think I'll be going back to China anytime soon. I've been sitting here for hours writing her a letter. I was wondering if I could read it to you, if you'd tell me what you think, if it makes sense. I've gone through quite a few drafts," he admitted.

She nodded. "Of course." Jean craned her neck to see the pages strewn all over his desk. They were scribbled with Chinese writing that she didn't have any hope of reading herself.

Lucien found the first page and began to read. " _My dear daughter, I hope this letter finds you and your family well. I am writing to share some important news with you. I was unsure how to tell you before it happened, but I have gotten married._ "

"You didn't tell her we were engaged!?" Jean asked in surprise.

"I should have, I know," he replied. Without giving a further answer, Lucien continued to read, " _I have told you many times about Jean Beazley, who takes such good care of me and my house. Jean has been so much more than a housekeeper, even from the day I first met her. She is kind, she is brilliant, she is beautiful, and she has a heart stronger and warmer than any I have ever known. I tell you this, Li, in an effort to assure you that I have not forgotten your mother, and my love for Jean does not replace the love I had for your mother or especially for you._ "

"Oh Lucien," Jean breathed, feeling tears prick her eyes.

He didn't stop reading the letter. _"Our family in Singapore is the past. You tried to explain it to me when I met you in Shanghai, but only now do I finally understand. The past must remain there. Our lives move on, and we cannot dwell on things we cannot reclaim. Your mother is dead. You have a beautiful life of your own. And while I will always hold the memories of our life in my heart, I must live a new life here in Ballarat. Jean has given me that new life. She has given me a home and a purpose and a love I still do not think I am worthy of._ " Lucien paused, looking up at Jean. They shared a smile, and he finished reading the last paragraph. " _I will send you a photograph from our wedding when we return from our honeymoon. I wish you could have been here to share in our joy. And I hope one day you can meet Jean. She asks after you often, knowing that we correspond with our letters. I think you would like each other very much. But until I hear from you again, I wish you all the best, sweet Li. As always, you remain dear to my heart. With love, your father._ "

Jean sniffed back her tears, not wanting to get too emotional while Lucien was clearly overcome by his own feelings. The depth of this man she was so blessed to call her husband was constantly astounding. He had so much love to give. She was lucky enough to receive so much of it. But he was missing his daughter, to whom he could not give nearly as much of his love as he wanted.

If things had been different, Jean had no doubt that he would have been the most wonderful father to Li and any other child he had. Her mind briefly wondered if she could give him a child, to give them a family of their very own. It was unlikely, of course, at their age. She didn't dare hope for such a miracle. Even so, imagining Lucien holding a baby in his arms filled Jean's heart with such desperate longing. She shook her head, chasing that idea out of her mind.

"Well? Do you think I rambled on a bit too much? I should do another draft, do you think? I think you can see it's incredibly important I get this right," Lucien said nervously.

"No, I think it's perfect. Honestly, I wouldn't change a thing."

"You think?" he asked, unconvinced.

Jean stood up and crossed to the other side of the desk. She perched on his lap and nuzzled into his neck. Lucien wrapped his arms around her and could feel that she still didn't have anything on under her dressing gown. He hummed happily, pressing light kisses on the exposed column of her neck and sliver of her bare chest. She sighed in appreciation. "Lucien, you have been the best father you could have been under the circumstances. Better, even. I mean what I said earlier, if you ever want to go back to China, or send for Li to come here, I hope you will. I would love to meet her someday. You are her father, and I don't see how she could ever doubt your love for her. I appreciate the things you wrote in that letter about me. I see now why you were worried about telling her. And I hope she doesn't think I'm a replacement for her mother in any way. Just as I hope my boys know you aren't a replacement for Christopher. He will always hold a place in my heart just as Mei Lin holds a place in yours. But as you said, that was the past. And our lives are here and now. I thank God every day that we found each other and our love and we've been able to live this life together."

"Thank you, Jean," he whispered, holding her tight and continuing to kiss her reverently.

"I think we should go back to bed and get a few hours' sleep, if we can. Our train isn't until the afternoon," she said.

He nodded. "I quite agree. We've had enough interruption to our wedding night."

"I don't think it's much of a night anymore, but I'd certainly like to wake up in my husband's arms for something more pleasant this time," she noted. Jean removed herself from his lap so he could stand.

They went back upstairs hand in hand. The letter for Li would go into the postbox on their way to the train station. But for now, the past was buried, and the future was awaiting them.


End file.
